


Blonde Roast

by TenkeyLess



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Ambiguous Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Crack, Fighting as a form of flirting, Fluff, Other, Soft Ending, Sub Zenos, WoL earns Zenos' everlasting affection by beating him, Zenos does not respect normal human social norms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22443655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenkeyLess/pseuds/TenkeyLess
Summary: He's here again.Your neck prickles as the door chimes a welcome, the same time as it has every day this past week. That familiar blue gaze locks onto you, their owner shaking off his umbrella before entering your coffee shop. Like a particularly eager puppy, he appears at the counter, exuberant to be around you again."My friend.""Zenos."He greets you the same way, orders the same drink, and settles to the same table, pulling out his rich family laptop to wait until your shift is over. The Galvus family practically owns this block of town. You'd had concerns, working in the coffee shop adjacent to their big high-rise, but the pay is good and you're more than capable of handling yourself walking home at night.Which was, of course, the source of your current dilemma.Wherein Zenosis bodily thrownfalls in love, and the shenanigans that ensue as he expresses affection the only way he knows how.
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light
Comments: 17
Kudos: 118





	Blonde Roast

He's here again.

Your neck prickles as the door chimes a welcome, the same time as it has every day this past week. That familiar blue gaze locks onto you, their owner shaking off his umbrella before entering your coffee shop. Like a particularly eager puppy, he appears at the counter, exuberant to be around you again.

"My friend."

"Zenos."

He greets you the same way, orders the same drink, and settles to the same table, pulling out his rich family laptop to wait until your shift is over. The Galvus family practically owns this block of town. You'd had concerns, working in the coffee shop adjacent to their big high-rise, but the pay is good and you're more than capable of handling yourself walking home at night.

Which was, of course, the source of your current dilemma.

Walking home last Friday after finishing your shift, you'd started your walk home like any other night. Bundled against the wet chill, it wasn't until he was almost upon you that you reacted. By hurling him over your shoulder and onto the pavement. It would have been hilarious under other circumstances, the Galvus heir blinking up at you as his torso flexed, trying to recover his breath from the sharp impact.

Locking your legs to help him up, rather than run (run fast, run far) from the hulking man, you'd sealed your fate. You'd apologized for your muscles acting on instinct (reacting to _him_ , a walking threat), but he'd waved such efforts off. Instead, he'd demanded your phone number as recompense. Blanching at the thought of getting further involved with the Galvus family after assaulting their heir, you'd given him a fake number and run home.

For what little distance that afforded you.

Midway through your next shift, he'd appeared. Long blonde hair lightly frizzy and floaty from the rain, you'd recognized him instantly--and he, you. Sauntering up like some kind of suave predator, he'd kept you pinned in place behind the counter with those piercing blue eyes.

"And here you are, my friend. Rather rude of you to give me a fake number, though I found you easily enough."

Talking over your spluttering reply, he'd smiled at you with an uncomfortable intensity.

"I'm not familiar with the throw you used on me last night, when does your shift end?"

Baffled at the apparent non sequitur, you answered honestly out of confusion. Confusion that only worsened as he took your answer and settled down to wait at a table nearby your counter. Thus beginning your exceedingly odd and concerning week.

You sigh, a week of increasingly inventive ways to shake him as soon as your shift ends behind you. There are only so many exits to the coffee shop, and he's alarmingly fast at finding which route you've taken each time--reducing your options for each successive night. A week should be plenty of time to get over being slammed into concrete, right? Sighing heavily, you glance over to where Zenos is animatedly typing away, and are unexpectedly caught by his stare. Keen blue eyes catch your own, and you forget to breath for a long moment.

Inhaling deeply, you break his gaze and turn to stare blankly at a coffee cup while you gather your thoughts. Maybe, just maybe, if you stick around after your shift he'll say his piece and go. Or, your pessimistic side adds, you'll find yourself fired and run out of town for assaulting the Galvus heir. Your boss hasn't mentioned anything about firing you, yet, but there's no chance that they'd stand up for you against such a powerful family.

Sighing again, you _discreetly_ check out Zenos once more. He's not a _bad_ customer, you suppose, he doesn't yell or rant. But for all his good manners, you cannot shake the chills that his hungry smile inspire in you.

The end of your shift comes all too quickly, and you find yourself eager to get this conversation over with. Leaving defiantly through the front door, you find him ready and waiting with umbrella in hand.

"Decided to use the front door today, my friend?"

You nod, turning to face the man head on.

"Yes, and I'm not running. Tell me why you've been following me."

Zenos' grin towards you turns feral, teeth glinting white under the streetlights.

"Why for the Hunt, of course. You bested me, and now I seek a rematch, dear beast."

"A...rematch?"

Zenos beckons you to follow, and strides off into the rain. Huffing a nervous laugh, you follow him into the wet night. You have to jog to keep up with his lengthy gait, distance melting away under his pace. Minutes later you stand under the overhang to the Galvus high-rise. The building dominates the city skyline, and you hang back for a moment to consider what you're getting into as Zenos hands off his umbrella to the doorman. The doorman extends a hand for your jacket as well, and you hand off the damp article before following Zenos inside.

A few confusing turns later, and you stand before the gates to a truly impressive gym. Zenos taps a key card to the door, before sweeping in and heading directly to an open multi-purpose room. Following slowly, you take your time staring at the incredible array of machines. The Galvus family wealth is certainly on display here. Expensive machines litter the floor, all in pristine condition.

By the time you reach the room, Zenos is already swapping his street shirt for a soft workout top. You blush at the sight of his chiseled physique, not at all expecting to be witness to such mouthwatering muscle. Noticing your gaze, he gestures imperiously to a small pile of workout clothes and the changing room nearby.

You hustle over to get changed--the sooner you spar the sooner he'll be out of your hair. The workout clothes provided are sinfully comfortable, and, perturbingly, exactly your size. Leaving your belongings behind in a cubby, you reenter the room to see Zenos stretching. Full body contortions that leave _no question_ as to his flexibility and coordination. He looks up as you arrive, eyes glittering, _burning_ , with his eagerness to see you.

"My beast." He purrs.

"Your 'temporary sparring partner' so we can work this out." You add the air quotes with your hands and join him for a short bout of stretching. Nothing too extensive, as it's late and your bed is singing its siren song, but not short enough that you'll regret _every_ part of this evening come morning. He chuckles at your chosen title, undaunted by your attempt at imposing distance.

"Shall we begin? I have waited for this day--"

"To get your ass handed to you?" You snark back, missing the way he shivers at your banter as you go down for a leg stretch.

"Our first meeting was most auspicious, though I must know how far your skill goes." His fervent words are at odds with the privileged drawl of his voice. Snapping your gaze up, you find him watching you intently as a cat does a mouse. Intimidated by your skill, was he? Well, you'll have to bring your full might to bear, then. You toss him a confident smile, standing to meet his challenge, and the bout begins.

Even lacking the element of surprise, your shivers alert you to the man's every movement and have you moving well to avoid each. He makes some cursory strikes, looking for weaknesses while you show none. A feral grin lights his face as he speeds up, striking in earnest while you deflect and dodge per your family's self-defense training. He offers very few openings, incredibly fast for such a large man. Gritting your teeth, you realize you'll have to take one of his hits to get in your own cleanly. And nothing less than a full strike will muster, he's clearly got stamina for days otherwise. You bob and weave, tapping his hands and feet aside as you choose your moment.

There.

Stepping in to meet him, you move through your wince as he catches your ribs in a glancing blow. Fisting your hands in his shirt as your leg braces between his, you put your hip into it to leverage him over your shoulder, hard, slamming him into the floor. Blessedly the floor is not concrete this time, but you nonetheless check him over for injury as he stares, stunned, at the ceiling. His chest heaves, wheezing breathlessly, as he blinks rapidly to look for you. Seeing no reaction to your prodding, you conclude nothing serious is hurt and straighten up, offering a hand to Zenos. He stares at your hand, transfixed by the simple gesture, until you waggle your fingers in a childish wave.

"It's late, Zenos. I'd rather not stare at you on the floor all night." You feel the sweat earned from your exertion dripping down your neck, and count the extra minutes you'll need to shower before you can get to bed. His chin tilts up towards you, neck a silken line to his torso, as he grasps your proffered hand tight. Hand tight as a vise on yours, you marvel at how warm it is as you pull him up.

"Fight me again." He demands, cheeks red from the exercise. You eye him critically, his stance unsure and trembling.

"Tonight? I don't think--" His hand flexes, pinching your fingers tight between his broad digits as he refuses to let go.

"Every night. I would see the limits of your strength as we revel in the rushing of our blood, the excitement of the Hunt, the _bliss_ \--"

You pry his fingers off your hand, clenched firmly on yours as he waxes poetic. It's almost flattering, how effusive he is in his praise of your shared sparring. Flattering, but it's also very late and you've work tomorrow, so you make your excuses and leave to change and head home. He watches you go, piercing blue eyes examining you every step of the way, though he does not offer to walk you home (thank goodness, following you to work was enough of a compromise of your personal space). You leave him and his eager grin behind, bound for bed, though the high of your spar stays with you into your dreams (stupid sexy muscles, his stretching was _unfair_ ).

And so, your pattern of evenings spent thrashing Zenos begins. It's nice, to have a sparring partner that you can't afford to hold back on. He learns your old moves as you develop new ones to deal with his adaptations. A heady cycle of check and be checked, though he has yet to wrest a definitive victory from you. You find him often in your thoughts, as you spend your shifts steeped in the lovely scent of coffee. Almost as often as you spot him at 'his' table, near daily appearances as though to make sure you do not vanish.

Small gifts begin working their way into your sparring sessions. The soft workout gear was the first that Zenos had insisted that you keep. From there, items to improve your daily life or regular workouts start appearing in 'your' cubby along with your street clothes. A new watch after you'd griped about missing yours, a waterproof jacket to replace your old holey one. Even a new set of weights, small and fitted for daily wear had appeared. All the custom fitted items' perfect sizing make you wonder if your online clothing shopping sites are compromised, but the gifts are generous so you put it out of mind.

The days pass pleasantly, and you find yourself looking forward to Zenos' company as the holidays approach. How will he react when you give him his present, you wonder.

* * *

"You move well."

The unfamiliar voice brings you up short, ducking Zenos' latest blow and knocking his ankle up to dump him on the floor.

"Father." Zenos frowns in distaste from his lowly perch, and you freeze at the realization that the head of the Galvus family is here. Watching you thrash his son.

You slowly look to the doorway, finding a severe face directing a scowl to the man beside you.

"I had wondered what latest frivolity you were engaged in, and find you with another sparring tutor. How long has this one been around? Their face is new." Zenos rises to stand beside you, a mountain of muscle, and turns to step just ahead of you. Almost protectively.

"Why concern yourself with my pastimes now, Father? I have delivered on every request you've made, fulfilled every obligation, so it cannot be a lack of diligence to tiresome duty on my part."

Varis, head of the Galvus family, uncrosses his arms forebodingly and walks across the training floor to stare down at his son.

"It becomes my concern when my staff inform me that my son is mooning over a coffee shop employee. Although--" And here his yellow gaze turns to pin you in place, "It would appear they have more skills than merely brewing coffee."

Zenos curls a lip up derisively, regarding his father with no little amount of animosity.

"I fail to see whom I interact with as a problem requiring your intervention."

"It is a problem, _boy_ , when your reputation suffers. I care not if you need to feed the frumentarii rumors or truths to enhance this tutor's image, but you _will_ take action such that their association is a public asset to the family or _I_ will _remove them_." Varis' gravelly voice pitches low as he delivers his threat, and you shiver at the sinister implications. Run out of town, fired, or worse. You're not sure which outcome Varis means, but with the influence of the Galvus family in this city, anything's possible.

Zenos does nothing to stop his father as Varis spins on his heels to leave. Dark words linger in the air, quite putting you out of the mood for more sparring. Zenos turns to face you, and you can already see what he wants written on his face.

"Another round."

"Zenos, I don't--"

He hooks his ankle around yours, and suddenly you are on the ground looking up at his exquisite blue eyes. He looms over you, pressing close as you find yourself beneath him for once. His eyes trace your features, and, oh-so-carefully, he leans in until his lips find yours. The tentative press of his soft lips short circuits your brain, singular thought of ' _oh_ ' echoing throughout your mind as your interactions with the Galvus heir click into place with this new context.

"You would not take your rights as victor, and so I have waited." He rolls off you with a sigh, laying on his back while his hands lace behind his head in a show of submission. Still processing, you prop yourself up to look at him and his bared throat. Watching as he swallows further words, his throat's apple bobbing. Stare as his cheeks redden, not from exertion as you've thought so many times, but from unconfined emotion. You feel an answering flush heat your cheeks, hand rising to cover your mouth as the sensation of his lips linger.

Tentatively, you roll to lean over him, watching each and every twitch he subdues as you drift forward to take his throat in your teeth. He hums a low note, relaxing utterly in your grasp. It's a heady sensation, such powerful muscle (muscle you are now readily acquainted with) limp beneath you. You tighten your bite, threatening to bruise, before drawing back onto your heels to watch as he shudders, eager and wanting.

"I suppose we had best come up with something to placate your father with, then." The thrill of having him wanton below you refuses to fade, and you meet his hungry gaze with an equally ardent expression. Zenos' smile is radiant as you lean down for another kiss, affirming your chosen fate.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this [dollmaker](https://picrew.me/image_maker/186583/) going around, particularly these two images (looking at you Lumi)  
>   
>   
> Thanks as always to [Emet-Selch's wholesomely debauched bookclub](https://discord.gg/PvbG45u).
> 
> This is for you, you thirsty peeps <3


End file.
